Date: Tue, 11 Jul 2017 20:39:41 +0000 (UTC)
From: Abra Cadabra
Subject: Trash Punk World Part 3
*** 3 The Freaky Cult ***
Fucker woke up to the sound of harsh slapping.
The cold ground under him was moving. No, it just seemed that way. He was
dizzy. Once his head could tell up and down apart again, he opened his
eyes.
The entire group was in a cage inside a bunker. They were totally
naked. Three of them were just on the ground, but Savage's hands were
chained to the ceiling.
The slapping came from him, since the brute fucked Pisspig so hard it was
difficult for the slave not to fall forward.
Well, someone was already taking care of getting Savage to calm down, so
Fucker could tend to the others.
"Pyro, Hardass? You awake?"
"Yeah boss," Pyro said.
"Almost," Hardass said and sat up very slowly. "What do you think happens
now?"
A figure entered the room outside the cage bars. "I can tell you that. You
all will experience the glory of serving a greater purpose in life."
"Yo," Fucker said. "You're the freak from before. What exactly do you think
you're doing?"
"Hahaha. You think you can make demands? I have taken care of your muscle
freak. He is bound safely. Even super strength cannot tear those chains."
So he hadn't figured out that there was more than one freak among them,
because he relied in the pure black eyes. Good.
"You all," the man continued, "will be sacrificed in the name of the only
thing that is worth sacrificing to. Power."
"Oh fucking great. A cultist."
"Not so, young trash punk. I am an inventor. I have developed a way to
grant freak powers safely to anyone I find worthy. I am living proof it
works."
Wait what? The cultist guy had *become* a freak by himself? If this was
true he had a good chance of grabbing a lot of land for himself. An army of
loyal freaks would practically be unstoppable.
Fucker frowned. "And you need sacrifices for that?"
"Unfortunately the process requires a poor sucker to lose his life. You
were the first bunch to walk into my freshly laid trap. I can finally start
rewarding my men with their own freak powers."
Savage finished and Pisspig fell forward, a line of cum spraying from the
brute's dick and the slave's asshole.
"Ah," the cultist said. "I should start with the slave to be sure, since I
don't know which one of you he's gene-bound to."
The man unlocked the cage door and took a step inside. Two more men stepped
into the room out front and shut the door behind them.
"Now then." The cultist walked up to the middle of the cage.
Pyro saw Fucker's nod and threw a sling of fire. The inventor of the death
machine got minor facial burns and staggered back with a muffled scream. He
tripped over the slave and fell toward Savage.
When the man's face dropped into Savage's crotch, the muscle freak closed
his massive legs around the man's neck. One ugly cracking sound later, the
cultist leader slid to the ground motionless.
Pyro had instantly started conjuring a second flame and threw it at the
lightbulb. As it exploded above the two guards, they were plunged into
twilight. The bunker windows let in a tiny bit of light but there was
enough shadow.
When the guards reached for their weapons, they found empty space. Hardass
was already behind them.
While those two were taken care of, Fucker rummaged through the pockets of
Mister Inventor's shorts. He found a key chain and one of the keys worked
on Savage's restraints.
"Yo punks," Fucker said. "Nobody knows we're free. We can probably sneak
out. But I'm thinking. What if the machine really works and ends up in the
hands of someone even more unhinged."
"Smashy smashy?" Savage asked. "The cultists I mean. Mostly. But also the
machine of course."
"All right. Let's try it. Let's see what the situation is right outside the
door. I think I already have a plan."
***
Half of the Voidgrip settlement was on fire. Which was impressive since it
was mostly made of bricks and metallic SuperSpark modules. When Pyro had a
lot of time to charge up, his flames got *hot*.
Most men had fled without a fight, racing to their buggies and making it
out the gate. Those that stayed behind (or were left behind by their
friends) had to deal with both Savage's fists and Fucker's randomly
acquired metal bar. He missed his phaser.
Meanwhile the slave and his owner were looking through the buildings not on
fire.
It didn't take ten minutes until the place was totally deserted. Savage ran
after a group of four men fleeing on foot.
"Leave them be, Savage. Come back. We need to grab our stuff before it goes
poof."
The brute returned with an adorable pout.
"Yo," Pisspig called out. "In here."
It was unsurprisingly the big building with the symbol on it, which had all
their stuff. Fucker could reunite with his beloved phaser. Since his loin
rags were even more torn it made more sense just to stay naked. They all
grabbed their bags and opened every box they could find in the community
building.
There was a lot worth taking but they were loaded already. In an adjacent
room as a lab. Fucker assumed he had found the freak power machine.
It was surprisingly small. A collection of metal dishes with outgrowths
like spider legs. All connected by wires.
What if it worked?
Fucker had never had a reason to be jealous of Pyro and Savage, but now
with a third freak in the group... What if it *worked*?
The weird cultist had left plenty of notes. Something in those had to tell
him how to use the thing. He could always say he wanted to make sure other
people believed them when they explained why there was a smoking ruin where
Voidgrip should be.
Yeah, he needed proof after all.
The punks roamed through the rest of the fake hub for any tiny, light
weight valuables. They came up empty, except for one thing. Someone had
left behind a camo thong in fucker's size.
"Totally worth getting poisoned and kidnapped," he said.
Pyro chuckled. "Yeah, really brings out your ass."
"Fuck yeah, I should hope so. Since it doesn't cover any off it. Hehe."
"It'll take a while till you're rid of the tan lines though."
"True. Now let's get going. We slept through the day, so we should make
good distance tonight."
***
The next village was grateful to hear the cultist were taken care off. No
one had known what was up, exactly, but it had looked shady from day one.
The farmers didn't require any proof of the claims. Crackpots popped up
every now and then. Nobody expected there to be a working machine. The
punks had agreed not to mention that the inventor had apparently tested the
apparatus on himself with success.
In the village, they also got rid of some loot, but not much. The farmers
with their self-contained hydroponic gardens needed little and had few
bottle caps to spare.
Once the traders had rested, they were approached by an elder.
"Yo, trash punks. Since you took out a whole hub's worth of men, I have
something to ask of you. A boy went missing a few days ago. We would
usually not ask merchants but with the raiders moving south and the
mercenaries pursuing, there aren't many people we can turn to."
"What is it with all the kidnapping going on lately?" Fucker said. "Sure,
we can have a look. Any details?"
"We're pretty sure he's in a village just west of here. We don't want to
start a war or anything, but it would be nice to get him back without
having to pay the ransom they'll inevitably ask of us."
Fucker shook his head. "I can't promise we'll be quiet about it. We'll do
our best to get him back though."
The missing boy was called H. Just the letter. He had a naturally blond
mohawk. Hair colors not changed by the retro virus were a rarity. He'd
stand out. When the 14 year old boy had been last seen he had worn an
ornate hip scarf.
There was time, though. Fucker picked three cute boys from the farms and
they gladly joined him for a circle jerk. This quickly turned into oral,
followed by anal. Those three lucky kids learned a lot that day. Fucker
didn't let a lack of experience serve as an excuse.
***
Before the sun rose, the trash punks made it to the neighboring village. A
knock at the gate and they were let in.
While Pyro tried to see if anyone had stuff to trade, Fucker walked
straight to the community building. He was going to ask an elder for the
missing kid.
Then Fucker saw a mop of blond hair.
"Um... Yo, H?"
The boy turned around. "Y-yeah?"
"Are you H, from the village in the east?"
"I... yeah. Why?"
Fucker took a closer look. No chains. No guards. "They thought you were
kidnapped for ransom."
H blushed. "No... I ran away. And I'm *not* going back."
"Okay? Does it really matter if you live a few steps farther to the side,
though?"
"Yes, because... I'm in love!"
Fucker facepalmed. Was this kid for real?
"So you ran away to be with your fuck buddy from one village over. And
there was no chance to talk it out with your caretaker beforehand?"
"He... He wouldn't understand."
"Understand what?"
"He'd keep me from seeing Ip, because he hates everyone from here."
"Ip? That's your fuck buddies name?"
"He's not a fuck buddy. He's my boyfriend. My love."
This was not what Fucker had signed up for. Punching baddies?
Sure. Rescuing prisoners? Any day. Looting places? Fuck yes.
But relationship trouble? Worse, parent trouble in the mix? Nope.
"Listen H, I'll-"
"Who are you?" said a new guy. The man of about 40 with a bald head stepped
to H's side. "Why do you pester my little H?"
"Oh fuck off," Fucker said. "Tell me *you* aren't Ip?"
"Yes, that is me."
"...You know what? Never mind. Have a nice day."
Fucker left, dragged his fellow trash punks with him and returned to the
eastern settlement. The elder and Ip could handle things among themselves.
It was a joy to see the elder's face when Fucker told the story. They
didn't get a reward for their trouble but Fucker hadn't expected one. Would
have been too easy.
The village had a medic, so they stayed for another day. After shocking and
impressing everyone within earshot that there were three freaks among them,
the punks jerked off.
Freak cum (if treated correctly with medical equipment) was a potent
substance. Basically a universal medicine. The villagers scrapped together
their last caps to pay for the luxury. It took a lot of cum to make any
decent amount of the freak-meds so the three were busy getting blown and
anally fingered for hours.
It was an exhausting process for them, but they didn't exactly feel like
complaining.
Fucker took part in the process, even though his cum wasn't going to heal
any ailments. He had never felt left out before when his punks had gone
through the hour-long milking but now... The device in his bag seemed to
weight heavy even when he wasn't wearing the rucksack.
***
Tune in next time for a little bit of slavery.